Broken Gravity
by RenaElaine
Summary: While observing Luna sitting in the rain Neville ponders their first meeting and her peculiar extraordinariness, but soon finds his thoughts spiraling downwards. One-shot. Takes place at the very end of Book 5.


**This fic began as a challenge, but I lost motivation near immediately. It also started with an already thought out plot course, that didn't really happen either. Anyways, it's finally finished and I hope you enjoy. Please remember to read, review, favorite, and follow.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series or any of it's associated plot, characters, settings, etc. all rights belong to its rightful owner. **

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><p>Raindrops launched themselves at the ground creating little gray splats on the stone walk and painting the air a misty gray. On a cold stone bench beyond a dense set of bushes sat a girl, her face turned upwards toward the sky and eyes held wide despite the downpour.<p>

Unbeknownst to her he watched and reveled in her presence and felt the love he had for every bit of her that made her, uniquely and solely her. He remembered when he first heard her name, what he thought to be four perfect syllables; Luna Lovegood. That first day was still vivid in his memory, her wand behind her ear, the upside-down magazine, the butterbeer cap necklace, all hinting she was insane and to be avoided at all costs.

In fact, in a desperate attempt to avoid her he'd spent much time hopelessly wandering the train hallways determined to find a different seat. Of course it was her compartment Harry and Ginny had found him in front of and forced him in to. At the time he was cursing the coincidence, but in retrospect he was eternally grateful.

Once inside he circumnavigated her gaze and wondered the physically possibility of melding with the brown leather seat he was placed upon. He needn't have tried so hard given the fact she skimmed him over like last weeks advertising and found a cover story in Harry Potter instead. Neville Longbottom was nothing compared to The Boy Who Lived.

However, all it took was a slip-up; it was a split second impulse more than anything, a blessed mistake, a single laugh. Later that night he would stay up late convincing himself it was funny enough to merit laughter and, thusly, worth the consequences that came with it.

At the sound of this laugh her head had snapped like a rubber band and her eyes honed in on him. Under normal circumstances he would have hidden, but he found himself fascinated by her gaze and lacking a spot to hide. He felt her eyes pinning him to the seat and leaving him unable to speak as she studied him with an imperious wonderment. She spoke, "And I don't know who you are." Each word was drawn out and formed immaculately leaving him stuttering and gaping like a fish out of water.

"I-I'm n-nobody." Was all he managed to say after forcing words out of his throat. Ginny quickly came to his rescue.

"No you aren't!"

Neville didn't notice Ginny's words, for he'd broken eye contact with Luna and found himself inordinately fascinated with a loose cushion thread.

She hadn't blinked, not once, and it was all he could think about. Was she superhuman? Maybe the lack of blinking was a sign of implanted lasers, or that she could fly without a broom; she could be hiding a superhero costume under her robes.

It was a given that she was at least extraordinary, which only made his inability to achieve even the ordinary clearer in his mind. It was fifth year and he could barely muster a charm, it didn't help that O.W.L's were coming. His thoughts remained on this somewhat dreary subject as the countryside flashed by, the weather changed, and the compartment grew silent.

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><p>Staring at her in the present, he knew his musings had been correct in one element, she was beyond extraordinary. Perhaps not in the ways he'd imagined, flying necessitated a broom, and there were no lasers implanted anywhere on her body, but nevertheless she was extraordinary.<p>

Though her eyes held no supernatural ability, they definitely had a mystical quality to them. He'd begun noticing it on the first day, but had written himself off as bonkers, he knew now that what he had observed was true.

Her eyes reflected the sky.

At the moment they matched the comforting drizzle that covered everything so thoroughly that not even the sun could break through. It was one of the showers that continued for days on end without shifting consistency. One that kept friends sharing umbrellas and made the castle loom. One that stuffed the common rooms full and at the end of the day left cloaks and boots drying by every available fire. Blankets would be left in mounds having been long separated from their owners and all would be peaceful and quiet, as if the rain had removed misery.

Other than her eyes, what made her extraordinary? Neville would wonder this until the day he died; he would die without answer. There was no specific reason, it was a fact, it just was.

She was a Sun that even the Dark Lord could not extinguish, and he only a planet. All he could do was hopelessly revolve, bound by a gravity that kept him close enough to enjoy the warmth, but too far to ever join it.

So standing in the frigid rain, for the first time in ages he cried. He cursed gravity and screamed at the world, yet made no sound; something kept his mouth sewn shut. In an attempt to throw a stone in anger, in an attempt to do something, anything, he tried to bend his knees. He could not, he's legs were steel rods, unbendable, tying him to the spot.

Memories like the rain, threw themselves at him and the weight of everything done to him and those around him became physically crushing. Ginny, Hermione, Ron, Harry, Dumbledore, Luna, and his parents all seemed to whirl past his face. Again he reminded himself of his own hopelessness, he had done nothing for his parents, and now there was nothing he could do for Luna.

If there was a single word that came to mind as all this transpired it was useless, he felt utterly and completely useless. So useless he didn't deserve to live.

Given his ineptitude at almost everything besides Herbology, Neville considered himself well acquainted with the feeling, but this was on a scale he'd never yet encountered. Not only had he watched everyone fight for their lives and their beliefs while he served as little more than a nuisance, but it was this attribute that made him dirty, unclean, impure.

Rain was supposed to be cleansing, however, it did nothing. As such an abomination he hoped it would wipe him away. He'd lost hope, he'd lost family, and most of all he'd lost himself; what he stood for, what he wanted, what he'd endured and lost. He'd lost his humanity.

If this deconstruction had occurred on any other day near any other person all would have been lost. Only a few words from one person saved him, only a few words out of the enormity of human language. If anything else had left her mouth darkness would have reigned. She chose right, ten syllables changed the world. Ten syllables drew a planet away from darkness and the voids of space. Ten syllables broke gravity.

"It's okay, I wish it would take me too."


End file.
